


Teacups

by bachlava



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: Coming Out, F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-22
Updated: 2011-01-22
Packaged: 2017-10-14 23:48:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/154797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bachlava/pseuds/bachlava
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a conversation that Claire needs to have with her father.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teacups

**Author's Note:**

> Canon for about the first half of season four.
> 
>  
> 
>  _People are fragile. Like teacups._  
>  -Noah Bennet, "Company Man"

Peter was there because Claire wanted him to be. He felt a little silly standing unseen across from Noah Bennet's apartment, waiting for Claire's signal. Noah was in the shower when Peter tiptoed in to find Claire with circles under eyes. “Didn't sleep much?” he asked, in a whisper. Claire shook her head. “Get yourself some coffee.”

“I'll just throw it up.”

Before Peter could argue, the shower went off, and he hid himself and settled in a pariah armchair. A minute later, Noah emerged, wet-haired but dressed for the day, and sat down with the crossword. Claire brought him orange juice and toast, and he kissed her temple. “How was your run?” she asked, and she told herself,  _Smile big. Relax._

“Fine, for the most part. I almost broke my neck tripping over a corgi.”

“You should always watch out for corgis. I think they're up to something.”

“I'll take that into consideration.” He took a drink of juice and looked over the crossword; Peter could almost hear him missing Sandra. “'High-fashion victim of 1997', seven letters?”

“Versace.”

“Thanks... I'm not half as good at these things as your mother.”

“That's okay. Besides, you're getting better.”

“We'll see... 'Painter of a famed marriage portrait'?”

 _Good omen._  “Arnolfini. I aced my art history final.”

“Have you gotten the grades yet?”

“They're coming out next week. But I'm okay on that one.”  _Buy some time._  “You want me to prove it?”

“Go ahead.”

“Fine.” She cleared her throat theatrically. “The Arnolfini Marriage Portrait is a small, almost miniature-sized composition that uses mirroring effects within the painting itself. Some of the details are so fine that a single-haired brush must have been used to paint them. The woman is wearing a green dress that creates a vertical contrast with the room's diamond-pattern tiles – ” 

“You really did ace it.” 

“Yeah. I'm glad I let Gretchen talk me into taking the class.”  _Points for mentioning Gretchen, right?_

“I bet you are.” Noah smiled and went back to the crossword, and Peter understood, suddenly, that he was only doing it to recall some family normalcy for Claire's sake, that he'd rather be finishing this week's  _Economist._  “Do you know the capital of Guinea-Bissau?”

“Nope. Sorry.” Claire cleared her throat. “Um, Dad? There's... something I need to talk to you about.”

Noah set down the paper. “Is everything okay?”

“It's not like that,” she said quickly. “It's just that lately – I've been thinking.”

“About...?”

She twisted her hands. “Well... I've been having a really good time on the intramural swim team. Great way to burn that excess energy without getting conspicuously non-injured.”  _God, that's lame._

“I sense a 'but' coming.”

“But I was thinking maybe next year I'd go out for varsity. I know it would take more time, but I really think that now I've gotten the hang of college, I can do it without sacrificing my grades.” She grinned. “So. What do you think?”  _I think you're a total coward, Claire Bennet._

Noah looked into the distance for a minute and flicked his tongue over his lips. “Two things. First, if that's what you want to do, I think you should give it a try.”

“Really?”

“Really. If it does turn out to take too much time from your studying, you can always go back to the intramural. And if it doesn't, you might have a great time.”

“I'm so glad to hear that. You know – ”

“The second thing is that there is no way in the world you'd make a special trip out here on Memorial Day weekend just to tell me you were thinking about a sports upgrade.”

“That's not true,” Claire protested. “I might come out here for no reason at all. Can't a girl just want to visit her father?”

“Not when she sits as stiffly as you have been – ” Claire slouched – “is obviously sleep-deprived, and makes a point of wanting to have a talk about something.” He gave her a minute to think, and when she didn't answer, he put a hand on her knee. “Claire. You can talk to me about anything.”

Claire took a deep breath. “Okay. Um. Maybe it's a little weird to be talking to you about this, but it's kind of about... dating.”

 _Oh, shit._  “Dating.”

“Yes. Dating.”

“Are you seeing someone?”

“It's.... sort of complicated.”

“Why don't you start at the beginning, then.”  _Deep breaths, Noah. Calm thoughts._

“Okay.” She pulled her knees up to her chest, feet on the couch, and then repositioned herself. “So, back in middle school. All the girls couldn't wait to start kissing boys, and when they did, it was this big deal, right?”

“The parents wound up hearing all the gossip, believe me.”

“Yeah, I guess you would have... And then in high school... The ones who were just kissing were really, really tempted to do more.”

“I follow.”  _How I wish that I didn't._

“And the ones who did – it was like they'd discovered the most incredible thing ever.”  _Am I blushing? I am._ “But I never – I mean, I never really even got into kissing all that much.”

“Oh, Claire.” Noah looked like his heart was breaking. “After everything that happened with Sylar – and Brody Mitchum – ”

Peter got a jumble, suddenly, of thoughts and memories that swelled to the surface of both their minds without being quieted. They were things he didn't remember and that it probably wasn't his business to hear, although their thoughts were too unguarded to stay unaware of. He stared at the floor and counted the streaks in the wood. 

Claire said: “It isn't that. Believe me, I know it isn't.” 

There was a little pause while Noah processed that information, realized that he trusted Claire to know herself that well. “Okay.”

A longer pause unfolded, Claire trying to gather her thoughts and Noah letting her do it. He was unreadable again, and Claire was tangled. Eventually she said, “It's... well, I guess it's hard to talk about with anyone.”

“Have you? Talked with anyone?”

“Just Gretchen. She's the only one at college who knows about...”

“About your ability?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, discretion is the better part of valor.”

“I know.”

“But it's good that you can have someone with some shared experience your uncle Peter doesn't have.”

“And who's a little more forthcoming than René.” 

“That narrows the field a whole lot, doesn't it?” Noah managed half a grin.  _Come on, spit it out._  

“And I can talk to her about being... different.”

This time the silence was thick, and it felt longer. The thoughts were heavy, somehow, there with a strength that didn't quite let them surface for Peter to see.

Noah took a quiet breath, and the silence seemed to peel back. “And by different, you mean gay.”

Claire met his eyes. “Yes.”

Noah opened his mouth without finding anything to say, and closed it. He adjusted his glasses. Claire was thinking  _Say something, please, just say anything. No, not_  anything, _but please –_ and Noah wrapped his arms around her and crushed her to his chest.  _My baby._  His voice was breaking up. “Claire-bear, I love you more than I've ever loved anyone.”

“I love you too, Dad.” After a minute, she added, “You're kind of squishing me, though.”

“Sorry.” He let her extricate herself from the hug and take a little room on the sofa – more distance than he wanted, Peter could see, but he gave her whatever space she needed. And he was guessing that Claire wanted him to make the next step:  _Christ, Claire, do you think I know what to do?_  He drew a deep breath. “How do you... feel about it?”

She shrugged. “Pretty good, I guess. I mean, I'm working on being happy about who I am and what I am, and this is part of it.”

“Yes, it is.”  _That's very insightful, Noah._  “So this is something you feel pretty sure about, and you're not just wondering.”

“Yeah. When I started... falling for Gretchen, I guess – I didn't want to admit it it to myself at first. Like it would be too much to deal with. But it made so many things make sense. Like there'd been something I didn't want to admit to myself for a long time.”

“And there had been.”

Claire's thoughts got too fast to follow, tripping over themselves. “Yeah... I know you're thinking maybe this is just some phase or experiment – ”

 _Well, I at least wonder._  “That's not what I was thinking at all.”

“But this is who I am. And it's not just Gretchen. Well, I mean, it's just Gretchen in my life right now, but – ”

“You don't have to explain – ”

“ – but you know what I mean. I know now what I want. I've given everything a fair try, and this is really, really what I need.” There was a long pause. “Dad?”

“I'm going to assume that 'giving everything a fair try' means exactly what I think it does,” Noah said. “Some college boy.” _And as soon as this conversation is over, I am going to shoot myself. And him._

“It probably does... Dad. It's – someone I'm friends with, okay?”  _West or Alex,_  Noah thought.  _I should've –_ “I started it, he was terrific about everything, we're still friends, and you're not going to end up with early grandkids. We made sure.”

“Oh, thank God.” 

“Did you think I wouldn't?”

“Of course not. But – ”

“But you're a parent and you have to worry about these things.”

“Yes, Claire, I do.”  _Okay, count to ten._  “So. Do you, um, want to talk about it?”

“Right now? Definitely not. Actually, with you, not ever. Um, no offense.” 

“None taken.”

“Anyway, it's water under the bridge now.”  _Great way to put it, Claire._  “It wasn't awful or traumatic or anything, but... this really isn't about what I don't like, you know? It's about what I do.”

This time it was Noah's turn to collect his thoughts, which had gotten more inscrutable. When he'd chosen words, he said “That's a much more mature perspective than a lot of nineteen-year-olds have on most things.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“It's a statement of fact. But it's a little bit of a compliment too.”

“Thanks.” Claire smiled and worried the hem of her shirt sleeve. “Are you really okay with this? I mean, you wanted me to have the white picket fence – ”

“I still do. White picket fence, tulips in the garden, someone you love standing next to you.” He swallowed heavily. “It's still there for you, Claire.”  _And you will wake up there one day and wonder where the time has gone._

“You really mean that?” 

“I really do.”  _And after all the times I've lied to you, why would you believe me?_  He cleared his throat. “So. Are you and Gretchen...”

“Are we... dating? Official? Happy?”

“Any of the above.”

“Yes on all three.”

“Good. Gretchen's a nice girl.”

“And if she ever does anything to hurt me, you'll make the whole world afraid to mention that she ever existed?”

“Well, I'll resist the temptation to threaten it out loud, how's that?”

“It's not a bad start,” Claire conceded.

“I'm not being polite, you know. I've always liked her. And I'm happy for you.” Noah touched Claire's cheek and gave her a little smile. Peter felt Claire's weighing whether she thought he was being honest. “Gretchen's in town this weekend, isn't she?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Why don't you invite her over for dinner tonight? Or I could swing by Alexandria and take the two of you out somewhere?”

“That's not too much to spring on you all in one day?”

“Not at all. I'd really like to see the two of you together.”

Claire's eyes were bright. “Thanks, Dad.”

“It's my pleasure.”  _My little angel._  “I would make it lunch if I didn't know what you look like when you haven't slept.”

“I guess I was a little nervous.”

“You don't have to explain anything. Just call her from the bedroom if you want a little privacy.” 

“Thanks.”

“And then you're going to get under the covers and get at least six hours' sleep, do you understand me, young lady?”

“Perfectly.” She hugged him, and Peter felt Noah's awareness of how small she was compared to him, how fragile she seemed. “You're the best dad in the world, you know that?”

“I try... Now go call Gretchen, and don't let me see you awake before mid-afternoon.”  _Peter Petrelli, I know perfectly well that you're here, and if you disappear on me now, I will find a way to have you murdered._. 

Peter kept hidden until he was pretty sure Claire was asleep, which he was also pretty sure was how Noah wanted it. He'd barely opened his mouth when Noah cut him off: “As soon as she started talking about that painting.”

“I didn't even ask – ”

“Two can play this game, Peter.”  _And I'm much better at it than you._

“What tipped you off?”

“That's for me to know.” He picked up his orange juice. “This is getting turned into a screwdriver. And I'm not offering one to you.”

“Fair enough.” He followed Noah into the kitchen, where he fortified his drink. “So, um – ”

“So Claire asked you to be here.”

“She wanted some moral support.”

“She's had too many hard conversations without it already.” He downed half the drink. “I take it you two have talked.”

“Talking with her normally – I picked up on a few things someone else couldn't have,” Peter said, carefully: it wasn't a neutral subject. “And no, I don't think she was hoping I'd do any of the telling for her. Before you ask,” he added.

Noah gave him a hard look. “Okay.”

“I can back her up that this isn't a college experiment.”

“You can also tell me how, exactly, you came by that information.”

Maybe Peter had been forgetting, lately, that Noah Bennet was a dangerous man. He put his hands up. “I let on that things were coming across, and after that she wanted to talk to me. A few times when things were kind of raw for her – ”

“You couldn't help finding out – ”

“Way more than I wanted to, believe me.”

 _Great._  Noah looked into his glass. “Tell me what to do for her, Peter.”

“What do you mean?”

“Don't play dumb. You've got a better idea of what she needs from me now than anyone else does.”

“What do you want, a shortcut?” He could feel Noah wanting to punch him for that. “Sorry, that was out of line.” Noah had the decency not to agree out loud. “Look, you did pretty damn well in there, okay?”

“Did I?”

“Yeah. You did.” Peter put a hand on Noah's shoulder. “Act normal with Gretchen tonight. And just be there for Claire when she talks to her mom.”

“She hasn't yet?”  _My God, I didn't even think of Sandra; she'll be perfect, she always is –_

“She will be, but Claire will still want to lean on you.”

“She can lean all she wants.” Noah took two gulps to finish the drink. “How are things for her at school?”

“Fine. About what you'd expect.”

“Which is supposed to be what, these days?”

“A hell of a lot easier than you probably remember. Or than if she were still in high school.” He could feel the second guesses Noah was formulating and he added, “The one fundamentalist in her orbit won't be in the shower at the same time as her. A bunch of guys are disappointed. Beyond that, who's dating who doesn't stay interesting as gossip for long.”

“The one fundamentalist in her orbit?” Noah said. “That's great. And what is she supposed to do when she gets out of college and things start getting complicated?”

“Then you'll be there for her while she finds her own way.”

“And you think that's good enough?”

“It's all you've got to go on.”

“For when she has to decide whether it's safe to hold hands with someone every time she walks down the street? Or deal with people who will make things a lot harder than avoiding one shower? They're not too thin on the ground, Peter.” Noah dropped his voice to a tense whisper. “Claire is my daughter. It is my job to protect her from people like that and from everything they would – ”

“And what I'm telling you is that  _you can't_. And the sooner you deal with that, the better off she'll be.”

Noah didn't respond, just clutched the empty glass and radiated a thousand things: anger; frustration; emotions Peter couldn't name. “I know you love her more than I can even understand, Noah,” he said. “You and Sandra both. And I even know how much you're willing to do for her.” 

“Do you?”  _Dying for someone is a lot easier than killing, and this time I can't –_

“She's got a hell of a lot more going for her than most girls in the world. Don't think she doesn't know that.”

“And when 'a hell of a lot more' isn't enough and I can't do anything – ”

“Then you'll do whatever you can, whether it's enough or not.” He let Noah wrestle with that for a while. “I wish there was something else that anyone could tell you.”

“But there isn't.”

“No. There's not.” He squeezed Noah's hands. “Listen. I've got to get going to make my shift. But I'll be in touch, okay?”

“Okay... Thanks, Peter.”

“Any time... Noah. Just do whatever you can for her. That's what counts, you know?”

Noah didn't show any inclination of agreeing with Peter, but he didn't argue, didn't try to keep him there or keep him away. Instead he got the door for him, and as Peter was leaving, he understood that he was being allowed to pick up  _It's a start._

**Author's Note:**

>  _Heroes_ is all NBC's; no claim or commerce here.


End file.
